A Little Road Trip Reading
by DanniV
Summary: Dean wasn't really sure when the tradition of Sammy reading aloud in the car started, that was just the way it had always been. Learning to shoot, their Grand Canyon trip, Dean's first kiss, the first time Sam's voice cracked, every milestone was marked by a book. It seemed like Dean's life had always been narrated by his little brother's voice - until one day it wasn't.


NA: In my mind this story is in the same universe as my other story A Fortress of Books but they can be read seperately. I just really like the idea of the Winchesters and their books.

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><p>Road Trip Reading<p>

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><p>Dean wasn't really sure when the tradition of Sam reading aloud in the car started. To be honest, Dean thought, that was just the way it had always been. The Winchester men would tiredly climb into the Impala with one job behind them and head toward the next. Some times these were quick two hour trips to the next town over or two day long trips across country. But whatever the trip's length, it was always to the soundtrack of Sammy reading aloud in the backseat from whatever book they were reading that week.<p>

If you really pushed the matter, Dean would say it all probably started when Sam learned to read. Sammy had never been into the types of books that were at his reading level, so as soon as they had gotten the basics of "See Spot Run" out of the way, they had moved on to more stimulating material.

One night, Dad had come back to the motel, with a bloody lip, his favorite leather coat torn and looking exhausted. But he smiled nonetheless as he handed Sammy the surprise that was tucked under his arm – the box set of the Hardy Boys Books. Sure one side of the cardboard container was torn and the top had water damage that Dean was pretty sure was caused by his Dad trying to scrub out a blood stain, but none of that mattered to Sammy. This box set of books was like the 8th world wonder to him.

So when they climbed into the car the next day, Sammy couldn't wait to start reading. But if John thought this gift would provide him with a silent peaceful cross country drive, he had another thing coming. Sammy could barely get through a sentence before he was tapping Dean on the shoulder to ask him what a word he didn't recognize meant.

The first Hardy Boy's book was slow going for the Winchester men. Dean spent most of the book twisted around in his seat helping his little brother sound out each word of each sentence. Dean finally wised up and just moved to the backseat so he didn't have to crane his neck to see which word Sam was pointing at. Wrapped contently under Dean's arm, Sammy followed his big brother's finger across each line of text. Dean never lost his patience with his little brother as they stopped and stuttered through each page of text.

By books five, Dean was back in the front seat and only needed to turn around every couple of pages when Sammy couldn't work out a word on his own. By the end of the series, John Winchester had bought Sam a reading light that clamped on to the book cover for night time reading and Sam was able to make it through the books without any help. At that point, it would have been reasonable for any older brother to tell his little brother to shut his cake hole and read silently. But Dean had grown accustomed to the sound of Sammy's now steady and confident reading voice coming from the backseat.

Dean would prop his feet up on the dash against the window and tilt the seat back a little and watch the miles go by as Sam read. On any given sunny afternoon, with Sam's voice drifting Dean off into a half waking half dreaming state, he could just manage to convince himself they were a normal family. They were just a normal family on a normal family vacation, not hunters with a trail of dead monsters in their wake and equally dangerous, not so dead ones, in front of them.

When Sam turned ten, Dean bought him the Hobbit. Dean had been dying to read it ever since he had skimmed the back cover two years ago. But he had patiently waited until he thought Sammy would be able to read it without too much trouble. For Christmas that year, John bought the boys the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

For brothers who barely ever got to go to school, they were a well read bunch. The family devoured books at an impressive rate. Even now, if you named almost any adventure or fantasy series, Dean could tell you which monster they had been hunting at the time. Looking back on their childhood, Dean could mark every important milestone by which book had narrated the event; learning to shoot, their Grand Canyon trip, his first kiss, the first time Sammy's voice cracked. It felt like Dean's life had been narrated by the sound of his little brother's voice.

But then Sam started to get older – he started to rebel. To be fair this paralleled John's most volatile period of his alcoholism. The two butted heads most of the time. Dad was bringing Sam on trips less and less, enrolling Sam in any given high school for longer and longer periods while he and Dean went off to hunt. The few necessary family road trips were now done in angry, resentful silence.

Dean had tried to defuse the tension the first few times by flinging a book at Sammy over his shoulder and telling him to read. That had always used to calm him, calmed all of them. But Sam was having none of it. Around the sixth time Dean tried to defuse a fight by handing Sam a book, Sam got so angry he threw the book out the car window. So Dean tried a different tactic. He bought a book on tape for the family to listen to on a day long road trip from Missouri to Michigan. Within five minutes, John had thrown it out the window, along with any remnants Dean had left of his childhood. A few months later Sam left to go to college.

By the time Dean and Sam started hunting together again; Dean had become accustomed to music, instead of books while driving. Sam could barely get a word in edgewise over the Led Zeppelin cassettes Dean was most fond of as they zigzagged across the country following leads on Dad's location. They were grown ups now. Car trips between gigs were for planning, music, or to be endured in silence.

Then one afternoon as the brothers rendezvoused back at the car after a supply run, Dean found Sam had beat him back to the car and was lounging in the backseat with a book open in his lap. Noticing Dean approaching, Sam shut it guiltily, trying to hide it in his duffle.

"What you got there, Sammy?" Dean said reaching through the window and grabbing the book out of his much larger, little brother's hands.

"Nothing, just a book," Sam mumbled.

"George R.R. Martin?" Dean asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Sam wouldn't meet Dean's eye, "Jessica had been bugging me to read them, but I was too busy with the LSAT…then…" Sam swiped the book back and ran the pad of his thumb over the cover longingly.

Dean pushed the toe of his boot into the dirt awkwardly, "That the first book?"

"Yeah I'm a few chapters in. I can see why she liked them," Sam said smiling sadly, leaning over the seat to place the book reverently in the front seat before moving around his side of the car to join it.

Not wanting to get any further into a chick flick moment then they already were, Dean set about putting the new ammo in the trunk and the food in their cooler, before joining Sammy in the car. Once again, Sam had his nose stuck in the book.

As the engine turned over, music blasted from the speakers. Sam glanced up momentarily at the radio, but said nothing before returning to his book. Nevertheless, Dean switched the music off and silence reigned in the car. Dean wasn't expecting anything. He just didn't feel like being a dick and playing loud music if Sam wanted to read, especially if it was a book that made him feel closer to Jessica. So it took him a moment to register what was happening when Sam sighed decisively and flipped back to the first page.

Sam cleared his throat self consciously and almost stumbled over the first few words as they left his mouth in vulnerable mix of haste and hesitation. With the first sentence hanging limply in the air between them Sam glanced sideways over at Dean. When it was clear Dean wasn't going to tell his little brother to shut his cake hole or turn the music back on, Sam took a calming breath and began to read aloud in earnest.

Dean had never heard of this Martin dude, but his words, given life by Sam's voice, washed over Dean, melting away the stress caught tight in his shoulders and easing the ache of his bruised ribs. Turning onto the highway, Dean glanced in the rearview mirror at the empty back seat and felt the years melt away. He saw a younger, more innocent Sammy leaning his head against the door fighting drooping eyelids as he tried and failed to get in "one more chapter" of Dune before sleep overtook him. He saw himself with his arm around Sammy's shoulder helping him sound out a more difficult sentence in one of the Box Car Children books. He saw the joy on Sammy's face the first time he opened a Harry Potter book.

For a moment, there weren't any demons with the Winchesters on the top of their "to-kill" list. They hadn't just had their asses handed to them by a vengeful spirit. Dad wasn't missing. And more importantly there was no yellow-eyed demon lurking in the shadows. For a brief moment Dean and Sam were as they had always been growing up; just two brothers on a road trip, going wherever Dad led. Dean wasn't really sure when the tradition of Sam reading aloud in the car started, but he was sure he was never letting it fall out of practice again.


End file.
